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He shrugs. “Do you need one?”
Grumbling, I stomp down the hall, then snatch a fresh T-shirt and jeans from a drawer. “What the devil do you want? Say it and be gone.”
Bram hesitates, looking as if he’s reluctant to break bad news. I have no patience for his foot-dragging.
I trek across the hall to my bathroom. He follows, directly on my heels. Since being in the same room with anyone magical gives me hives, and having Bram around is like a permanent case of leprosy, I slam the door in his face.
After donning fresh clothes, I brush my teeth and slide my comb through my dark hair. Ancient eyes stare back at me, filled with misery, anger, and thwarted lust. I do look like hell.
“You’re not happy I’ve come. I promise only something gravely important would bring me to the Creepified Forest,” Bram ventures.
“Important to magickind.” Not necessarily important to me.
“Since I’m the only friend you have—”
“We are not friends.”
“All right, then. I am the only living being who knows of your immortality and still speaks to you.”
“I am not interested. I must hunt.”
“The local market too civilized for your Dark Ages upbringing?”
Grinding my teeth, I wrench open the door and glare at Bram. “Is magickind so starved for a comedian that you suffice?”
“What I’ve come to say affects you, too.”
He will only pester me until I relent. I sigh. “Why?”
He doesn’t speak right away. I cannot recall ever seeing the Bram Rion, magickind’s golden boy, nervous. “I’ve had a vision.”
“Have you not a magical healer for that?”
He ignores my dig. “When it comes true, you’ll be in danger.”
“In case you have forgotten, I cannot be killed.”
“But you can be tortured within an inch of your life.”
’Tis true, but… “I involve myself in nothing, least of all magical affairs.”
“I’m well aware.” As I shoulder past Bram and head for the kitchen, he grabs my arm. “Have you ever heard of the Book of Doomsday?”
“Nay.”
“Also called the Doomsday Diary.”
“Still nay.”
Suddenly, I feel a tightening under my forehead, then between my temples. Bloody hell, the bastard is trying to sneak into my thoughts. I jerk from his hold and slam a mental door between us.
Bram rears back in surprise. Clearly, most humans cannot block him. But I have not survived half of forever without learning some parlor tricks.
“Never have I heard of the book by either name. Do not ever attempt to invade my head again, or I will slice you in two.”
“It would be amusing for you to try, human.” The wizard snorts. “Are you certain you’ve never seen the book? It’s small and red with gilt inlays. Ornate and centuries old.”
That sounds eerily like Morgana’s tome. I shove the thought away, lest Bram read it.
